


Bunker Bunnies

by cajunquandary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Other, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajunquandary/pseuds/cajunquandary
Summary: It’s Easter, and you and the Winchesters have the day off.
Relationships: None





	Bunker Bunnies

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Elsie’s Easter URL Challenge. I got the prompts: bcr36 and “It was your favorite, and he knew.” This was a lot of fun to write and got my sister’s stamp of approval, so I hope y’all like it! Thank you, @sleepywinchester, this was fun!

You carefully set each of the colorful dip-dyed eggs around the bunker. It was a quarter past four a.m. with soft snores coming from Sam’s room, and Dean had stumbled into his own not long before. The boys rarely celebrated holidays, but you were determined to change that this year. In fact, it had been one of the resolutions you’d stuck to.

After about half an hour of picking a few obvious places for the boys to find the eggs and many more obscure hiding spots, you put your hands on your hips, satisfied with your work. You walked back to your room, looking forward to your day off with the Winchesters. Dean said he had a surprise for you and Sam, but you were sure it involved fishing at the nearby pond.

Those were some of your favorite days: the three of you would sit on the bank or small dock, casting lines, using bits of sandwiches that Sam packed as bait, drinking beer and coke, relaxing in nothing but a swimsuit and one of Dean’s old Led Zepplin t-shirts. No words had to be spoken on those days, rather, the conversations were short and contained mostly grunts that translated to “hand me another beer”, “I need more bait”, or, “damn, I didn’t set the hook all the way”. At some point in the day, one or all three of you would end up being thrown into the lake.

You held onto these memories, smiling and tucked in on yourself as you drifted back to sleep, hoping for another two hours before Sam stirred and started breakfast.

You woke with a start as Dean hollered from his shower. He found the first of many, likely stepping on the egg as he usually stepped into the shower with his eyes closed and still full of sleep. You giggled and jumped from bed, already energized for the exciting day ahead. You quickly dressed, swinging out your door, but doubling back for three pairs of bunny ears. Oh yeah, today was going to be fun.

You slipped your pair on, then hopped up behind Sam, who was bent over the stove scrambling a few purple and green eggs he must’ve found on his way to the kitchen, jumped a little using the counter as leverage and put Sam’s pair of ears on as well. Startled, he turned and grabbed at the silly ornament, sighing and grinning wide.

“Really, Y/N? How many eggs did you hide, anyway?”

“About three dozen,” You said proudly. It had taken FOREVER to dye them all.

“Three DOZEN?” Dean stepped into the kitchen in nothing but his dead-guy robe, toweling his hair in frustrated motions, dark circles under his eyes and a grumpy pout.

You reached into the cupboard for his favorite mug and quickly fixed his coffee. “Yep.”

Dean tossed the towel to the counter and gratefully took the mug in both hands, promptly burning his lip, but sucking down the first sip regardless, a small crack of smile in the corner of his lips beginning to start. You adored morning Dean, in all his scruffy grumpiness. The only thing that might be cuter is when Sam oversleeps on rare occasions and shuffles into the war room in his pajamas, hair all mussed in every direction and a special little puppy dog pout all his own on his face. You loved these boys as family. Everyone else saw the fearsome hunters, but you got to see the tender moments, too. Even with the horrors that’d led you into this life and into the path of the Winchesters, you wouldn’t trade your life with them for anything. Except maybe your soul if it was ever threatened.

“Why so many?” Sam brought you out of your daydreams and handed you and Dean a plate.

“I couldn’t make it too easy on you boys.” You set your plate next to Dean, who was already stuffing his face. You stood behind him, acting like you were going in for a quick hug, instead putting on the final set of bunny ears. Dean’s were pink, unlike the white ones you and Sam wore. The hunter’s fork stopped halfway to his open mouth and his eyes grew big as his finally noticed the ears on Sam. Dean slowly turned his head to face you, fork still suspended, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the words. His face flushed pink, and coupled with the ears on his head, brought out the little constellations of freckles on his nose and cheeks, eyes such a captivating green in contrast.

“W-what in the hell… is this?” He stammered.

You placed a quick kiss on his cheek and sat in your seat next to him, filling your own mouth with toast and purple eggs, shrugging. You stole a glance back at Dean, whose throat moved as he swallowed hard, jaw twitching and lips still slack in surprise. You made a mental note of how neither of the boys reached to remove the ears and smiled wide.

Sam leaned forward. “Pink’s your color.”

Dean’s fork clattered to the plate and he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and back to pouting. Sam just laughed and adjusted his pair so that one ear folded over and stuck out awkwardly from the other.

After breakfast, Dean finally admitted that his surprise for y’all was a much-needed day at the pond, but he grabbed your hand and led you towards his room for “the extra one” for you. You stood in front of his closed door, Dean behind you, covering your eyes with both large hands so you couldn’t see anything. You fumbled for the doorknob, finding it and pushing it open. Shuffling inside and only stepping on each other’s toes once or twice, Dean dropped his hands, revealing a basket on his neatly made bed.

“Um, Dean? What is this?”

“I uh.. I got you an Easter Basket.”

You grinned wide, walking over and carefully picking up the items inside. The basket included your favorite shirts of his (that he always got fake-mad at you for stealing from his closet), a pack of gummy bears, an orange soda, a bottle of Johnny Walker, and cassette labelled “BCR,” a tape made for you.

You turned back to him, tears in your eyes. All of this—it was your favorite, and he knew. You fell into his chest and he enveloped you in a warm hug, your ear against his bare chest exposed by the robe.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

“You’re welcome. Sammy helped me pick out some of it.”

You pulled away, becoming all too aware of the thin fabric between you as red creeped into your cheeks. Dean sure did look goofy, standing there in his robe and bunny ears.

Sam stood in the doorway and you thanked and hugged him as well. “Sorry about all the eggs guys, but you should probably find those before they go bad…” You smiled sheepishly, feeling kinda bad that you didn’t get them anything special.

The three of you scrambled around the bunker, each of you yawping when you found one. After a couple hours, you all stood around the table in the war room, desperately recounting the eggs. Thirty four of thirty six eggs have been accounted for, including the ones eaten at breakfast and crushed by Dean in the shower. You racked your brain, so certain that they’d all been found.

Oh well, you’d find the two strays later.

“Alright, we can find the other two later. Come on my little Playboy bunnies, we’ve got some fishing to do!” You tossed your ears to Sam, who cocked his head in mild confusion.

Dean called after you as you skipped away, “You’re the Playboy… bunny…” He never was good at come backs. But really, Dean did have something witty to say but was too distracted by the new thought of you all done up like the girls in the magazine and was glad that he’d taken time to change from the thin robe to his jeans. He ripped the ears off of himself, turning to Sam with a red face and muffled “Shut up.”

Sam held up his hands in defeat. “Whatever, Dean.”

It was weeks before you found the stupid eggs and the whole bunker smelled like sulfur for it. Ever since then, if a demon was near and sulfur present, the brothers would just turn to you in sync and sigh with reluctant half smiles on their faces.


End file.
